


Icicles Don’t Soften When They Die (They Sharpen Into Sabers & Stab You In The Eye)

by ovijiaboardz



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Baking, Character Study, Child Abuse, Doki Doki Literature Club! Spoilers, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Self-Indulgent, Trans Female Character, Trans Natsuki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-01 05:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ovijiaboardz/pseuds/ovijiaboardz
Summary: You’ve become art, how could they even start to see beyond your presentation, when they’ve got no imagination! // please read the warnings in the beginning notes! <3





	Icicles Don’t Soften When They Die (They Sharpen Into Sabers & Stab You In The Eye)

**Author's Note:**

> Before you read this, please be advised that this story contains explicit and heavy mentions of child abuse, self harm, bullying and gender dysphoria. Read at your own risk and stay safe!

Natsuki wasn’t born with the name Natsuki, just as she wasn’t born a girl. Her birth name (she prefers the term deadname, since it’s dead to her and she doesn’t wish to use it anymore) is Hiroshi, which means thriving and prosperous. It held a bitter irony since her father often used her deadname against her, and it was therefore preventing her prosperity and expression of her true self.

She chose the name Natsuki for herself one summer when she decided she was going to embrace who she felt she was inside. It was on a camping trip with a group of friends when the perfect name came to her. Everyone else was asleep, so she could read the manga she snuck without being judged. Fictional stories had an influence on her name just as they did her hobbies and writing style.

Her favorite character from the story was Natsuki - she was a cute girl who wore pink bows and skirts, but she had a fiery heart and positivity attitude, achieving amazing things in the face of hardship. She was everything Natsuki hoped to be one day, and taking her name only seemed fitting. Natsuki translated to “summer hope,” (夏, natsu + 希, kii.)

In the literature club, Monika gave her a sheet to fill out. It had a few questions about her preferences in literature, preferred writing style, etc - but it also added more basic things such as name and gender. This was the first time Natsuki could sign her name as Natsuki on a document and mark herself down as a girl without going through numerous emails and explanation first. No one questioned it, and even if they did somehow hear, they all respected her and her preferences. She wasn’t great at showing gratitude, but she hoped that they could enjoy her cupcakes. 

Natsuki glanced at the pastel pink analog clock on her dresser - it was 5:30 AM, perfect. Time for her morning ritual. She sighed, covering the cracks under her door with a layer of pillows, so the light wouldn’t show in the hallway. She couldn’t let her father know she was up yet. Once she was sure it was safe, she turned on her desk lamp, adjusting the neck so it pointed to her body mirror. Halfway in front of the mirror was a small table with drawers where she kept her makeup, accessories, and clothing.

Dressed only in her underwear, she critically stared at her reflection. She squinted, examining her face carefully. She just shaved last evening, so she was smooth. Thank god. She cringed at her jawline - it was so strong and pronounced, and she hated it so much. She tried to reason that no one would pay attention to a jawline, or the width of her face and shoulders, or her straight waist, but that affirmation wasn't enough to stop her from obsessing over them. 

These stupid little things should at least be less prominent once she’s done her hair and makeup. She couldn’t help but feel people, such as Yuri, looked down on her for dressing so cutesy, but it made her happy. That’s all that really mattered, right? Well… it also majorly helped calm her dysphoria, even a little. All the fake eyelashes, the bright pink dye, curls, and bows took a while, but if that’s what it took for her to pass, she’d take it. 

Natsuki wasn’t allowed on hormones, and her dad was far from supportive. She’d emailed her teachers at the beginning of her freshman year, and most of them supported her - they called her Natsuki, and used the pronouns she preferred - but her history teacher didn’t. Some students from her previous classes were also in history, and thanks to this, they knew. No matter how well she passed, she was seen as a freak by her peers and was lacking friends. The most common social interactions from strangers she’d get was curious students asking if the rumors were true or stoned boys asking what was under her skirt.

Not everyone was transphobic, but who wanted to hang out with a girl who was bullied? They’d be a target too, and no one wanted that. Natsuki had a couple friends, but she couldn’t help but wonder if they only stuck with her out of pity. They weren’t a lot like her, they were rather extroverted and didn’t have many shared interests. At least they were nice. They’d go shopping with her and give her rides to places, so she supposed she wasn’t in a position to complain. 

She folded some socks carefully to form tight, rounded padding. She put on an undershirt that was a size too small and put on a snug -fitting sports bra on over it, the bra holding the padding in place. She was thankful for the jacket that came with her uniform - she could wear it unbuttoned and it’d hide her flat stomach. 

Her curling iron was hot now, so she could finish up her hair and makeup. Her daily makeup routine included emphasis on the eyes - she wore false eyelashes, soft pink eyeshadow and plucked her eyebrows almost every other day. Her blush went with her eyeshadow, and despite the discrimination, she was complimented on her makeup abilities often. Occasionally, she’d be tempted to answer with something along the lines of “thanks! It’s the dysphoria.” Still, she appreciates the sentiment all the same, especially since most of the school knew she was trans whether she wanted them to or not. 

To complete her look, she took a curl and pinned it back with some of her lucky red bows. Good things happened whenever she wore them, and she was more nervous than usual today. Sayori was bringing a new member to the literature club, the only place she truly felt safe. It was literally her go to escape, so she hoped that they’d be nice. Monika has wanted new members for a while, but Natsuki really didn’t - she was just fine with only Monika, Yuri and Sayori, people who (for the most part) accepted her.

She slung her backpack over her shoulder - it was a custom made backpack that she was very proud of. She spent a whole afternoon sewing pink lack and heart shaped buttons to the plain white backpack her father insisting on getting her. It was covered in cute pins, mainly from manga (especially parfait girls, it was her favorite!) Sewn into the middle was a felt cupcake. 

She removed the pillows and checked the time - 6 O clock. In the other room, she could hear her father showering. She got lucky this morning. She gripped the tray of cupcakes and ran out the door before he could even say a word to her. 

Natsuki’s life was far from perfect - her father was an alcoholic who took out his issues on her, his daughter. He didn’t support her choices and was always angry at her for one reason or another. Her gender dysphoria made her downright miserable, especially since she wasn’t allowed any procedures until eighteen, when her father could be rid of her. Due to all this, her grades were awful. She couldn’t succeed or maintain a good attitude and worried for her future a lot, especially with the kind of pressures her school put on students about what they’d make of themselves, even the first years.

Natsuki was scared to go home, scared to go to class, failing, and unhappy in her own skin. There were three different things that made her feel safe, things that brought her comfort through all of this and she truly believed they were the only reason she was sane anymore. These things were manga, baking, and most recently, the literature club. 

Manga brought her joy mainly because of the characters - they inspired her with the things they accomplished. They were often foolish, stubborn, or experiencing their own set of hardships, but they still stayed strong and prevailed in the face of hardships. This inspired Natsuki a great deal, and she often found herself looking up to the characters as role models. 

Her love of baking, as embarrassing as it is to admit, was also inspired by a manga, more specifically, parfait girls ; her all time favorite. The characters in parfait girls baked, so Natsuki decided to humor herself and try it out! She could maybe be more like her role models if she got good at it. She got really good at it quickly, and it was a big help for her poor mathematical skills. Baking made her happy and was another coping mechanism she took on.

Natsuki’s love of manga is discouraged at home. Her father insists its influencing her in a negative way, taking away from her school work and leading to her, in his words, confusion over her gender. If he realized how much she owned and how much of her savings she’s spent on manga, cosplays, posters, figures, etc - he would (and there’s no way to put this lightly,) beat her senseless. Luckily, the literature club had a spare closet for use, so she could safely keep her belongings there without trouble.

The literature club was a glorified escape. It was a place where Natsuki felt safe and happy. She loved the three girls. Sayori was the sweetest girl she’s known. She was a little oblivious, childish, and ditzy, but all this did was add to her charm. Sayori was the one who enjoyed her cupcakes the most, probably. She had emotions as the main focus of her writing, Natsuki noticed. She wondered if this ditzy girl was better at reading people than she let on. She wondered if she was happy, if she was dealing with anything. It takes one unhappy person to know one, and despite Sayori’s constant smiling, Natsuki sensed that something was off. It worried her. 

Monika was warm, welcoming, smart, organised and assertive when she needed to be. She made a marvelous leader. Monika used to be a member of the debate team, but she resigned to start a club of her own, and it’s worked out nicely! Natsuki was very thankful for Monika, the club leader. The club has become a glorified safe space for Natsuki, and she wouldn’t have that without the founder.

Then there was Yuri, the taller girl with the long purple hair who was always reading one of those horror novels. Her writing style was the polar opposite of Natsuki’s. While Natsuki preferred her writing simpler and straightforward,Yuri liked hers more complex, like a puzzle you had to search for a meaning for. There was nothing wrong with either girl’s writing, really, they were both talented - but she was stubborn. Yuri was the same. On top of all this, both girls were uncomfortable sharing their poetry, but Monika was set on hearing poems from them sooner or later. It was a long term goal of sorts.

The all girls atmosphere was nice, but it was all ruined when Sayori brought him in.

Sayori promised a new member would be joining that day, but neither Natsuki or Yuri had expected it to be a boy. Monika didn’t seem to mind, but she was a chill persona in general, unbothered and trying to maintain peace above all else. Natsuki had baked cute cupcakes, and she felt threatened when he came in. He seemed uninterested in the actual topic at hand - literature - and seemed to be drooling over the club members. She decided that she didn’t like him.

Natsuki tried very hard not to, but she couldn’t help but generalize and fear boys a little, not in a butterflies in your stomach sort of way but to be frightened . She didn’t want to think like this, she hated it a lot, and everyday she tried to work on it. It just wasn’t very helpful that all the men in her life have either been jerks (bullies, history teacher,) or caused her legitimate trauma and abused her. She was warped inside, and she knew this. She tried to ignore that, tried to ignore how much of a follower he was, influenced easily and not forming an independent thought the entire time he was here.

I’m going to hate him, she told herself. I know I’m going to hate him.

The worst part about the boy was that he changed the way everyone acted. It seemed like the other three were going out of their way to impress him, and Natsuki found this gross. She noticed that Yuri’s “boobs” grew a size bigger, the looks Monika gave him, the love themes in Sayori’s poems… it made her want to hurl. High school sucks. Romance sucks.

She felt as if her safe space has been invaded, and she grew even grouchier than usual. 

Strangely, though, he didn’t seem that awful when she talked to him. She wanted so badly to hate his poem, to laugh at him before revealing her own poem to show him how it’s done - but his poems really weren’t bad. If anything, it seemed he mimicked her style more every day. She couldn’t tell if this flattered or enraged her. Natsuki wasn’t oblivious, nor was she stupid. She knew he was trying to flatter her.

So, she decided to at least try and give him a chance. What could be the harm in a small chance? She’d show him some of her favorite manga, bring in better poems, and maybe even ask about his day. If he turned out to be a gross creep with ulterior motives, she’d tell Monika, and surely the president would address it. Right? Natsuki sure hoped so.

She winced when she noticed his car in the driveway. She went out of her way to leave as early as possible in a futile attempt to avoid her father. Unfortunately there was only so quickly you could get home when you didn’t take the bus. She remembered what Sayori said the other day about silver linings, and at least she was getting exercise.

She reluctantly drew out and key and unlocked the door with a firm click. The first thing she saw was her father, sitting at the table on his laptop, downing a bottle of god knows what - the label was conveniently scribbled out in black sharpie. “I saw your history grade,” he said, pointing to her. “Don’t try and run up the stairs, we need to talk. You avoided me all day yesterday! It’s not going to happen again. I house and clothe you, the very least your ass could do is acknowledge your damn father.”

“What do you want?” She grumbled, emptying out her lunch box into the sink, making an effort to avoid any eye contact. She could tell he was in a bad mood, and he was probably going to be taking it out on her.

“I can’t believe this. You probably don’t care! Your grades are shit and you don’t care. I do so much for you and you don’t care.”

“I’m doing my best in my classes, but they really don’t matter as much as you think,” Natsuki insisted. “It’s just my first year, and grades are just a number. They aren’t a real measure of your intelligence!” 

“Sure, getting good grades doesn’t make you smart,” he scoffed. “Well, wearing little bows in your hair and calling yourself Natsumi doesn’t make you a girl. You do whatever you want, ignoring the rules and I’m always the one at fault! You’re never going to get anywhere in life if you keep pulling this shit. I’m worried about you!”

“I don’t want life advice from someone who drinks away his problems,” she snorted. She didn’t regret saying it either. Still, she was going to have to face his rage afterwards. His fist tighter around the bottle Natsuki flinched. That was a bad idea.

She couldn’t take this anymore. She didn’t want to be a victim, she didn’t want her friends pity. She didn’t need anyone’s pity. She wanted to shine and leave his deadbeat ass behind, and she’d never come to visit. She wouldn’t even attend his funeral. Natsuki wanted control over her own identity, her own future, her own life, and she didn’t want him to be a part of any of it.

If he wouldn’t accept her as his daughter, she’d abandon him as a father. He wasn’t home, and she had her baking supplies spread out across a newspaper (she’d fold it up after she’s done, and he’d never know a thing happened.) She rolled the cookie dough batter into one inch balls, spreading them about an inch apart on the cookie sheet. She was angry, yes, but she had a good reason to be. Better to be angry and on the defense than some helpless little victim. By now, if one more teacher lectured her about her attitude, Natsuki would surely snap. 

She thought about Yuri and her habits, and it pissed her off. She wondered why she did that to herself. Did she know others saw it? Did she want attention? She saw the older girl as weak, projecting her own insecurities on her and snapping in the club that day. Monika wasn’t wrong, really - she’s been meaner than usual lately. She didn’t know why, and she felt bad.

She didn’t mean to say those things to Yuri. She didn’t hate Yuri, not at all. She certainly wasn’t impressing anyone. She took a deep breath, and wrote a poem, shook her head in disgust as she crumpled it up and threw it in the trash. Pathetic.


End file.
